


Hide

by ClumsyChicken



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, Character Study, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Implied vomiting, Nausea, One Shot, POV Third Person Limited, Party, Present Tense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-16
Updated: 2014-09-16
Packaged: 2018-02-17 16:45:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2316497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClumsyChicken/pseuds/ClumsyChicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A single ill-timed comment might damage your entire facade.</p>
            </blockquote>





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The muscles on his nose are about to contract and he feels pressure behind his brow ridge as soon as the comment settles in his mind. Eren's eyes widen and he grits his teeth.

   "Ah, sorry Reiner," he mumbles and looks down. "Me and my big mouth." Reiner clenches his jaw before a smile appears on his face, carefully wrinkling the skin around his eyes.

   "It's fine. Happens to the best of us, yeah?" he says with tightened abdominal muscles and puts a broad hand on Eren's shoulder. The younger man smiles widely with his lips pressed together. He pours the crushed ice into his drink and walks out of the kitchen. Reiner swallows hard and opens his mouth to run an index and a thumb across the corners of his lips. With shallow breaths he follows Eren. Every step is calculated and precise. In the hallway adorned with family photos, his heartbeat becomes heavy and rapid. As he steps back in the living room, his peripheral vision seems blurry, and he places his hand on his throat when he swallows again.

   "Oi, Reiner!" Jean yells from the couch. "We need a referee here who isn't biased as hell!" After taking a deep breath, he puts on a wry smile and strides towards the gamers.

   "I'm not biased,” Mikasa retorts, narrowing her eyes.

   "Yeah you fucking are! You're totally on Sasha's side."

   "Am not."

   "You actually kind of are," Sasha interjects and nudges her hip with the Wiimote. Mikasa folds her arms and looks away while a slight coral tint spreads across her cheeks.

   "Alright, what seems to be the problem?" Reiner asks with an exaggerated tone range.

   "Sasha totally fucking cheated to win this mini game," Jean says and flails his remote dangerously close to the TV. "She cheats constantly. So I'm not winning a single game, see?" He points at Waluigi's dreadful amount of coins and complete lack of stars.

   "As I said, I'm not cheating. You're just terrible," Sasha says and fails to catch a piece of popcorn with her mouth. Jean is about to riposte when Reiner holds both his hands up in front of him.

   "Settle down, settle down. My professional opinion is..." He makes a thinking noise and grabs his chin. "That I wasn't here for the actual game, so I have no idea if she cheated."

   "Goddammit!" Jean clenches his Wiimote with a contorted mouth.

   "I told you guys that I'd be a mediator if you wanted," Armin mumbles.

   "I'd love that, dear, but your comments are a bit insufferable," Sasha says with a small wrinkle on her nose. Mikasa cocks an eyebrow at her, which the brunette misses when it’s her turn to roll the virtual die.

   "I just know the game well, okay?" Reiner ruffles Armin's hair.

   "There there, you'll get your time to shine," he says and Armin turns his attention to the TV with a subtle smile as another round of mini games start. Reiner stares in the same direction, and his own smile fades. He breathes in and out deeply and mechanically, counting every breath. He moisturizes his lips, rearranges his hair, straightens his tight tee, clears his throat, wipes his hands on his jeans, leans his neck from side to side, rests against the table behind the couch, switches the position of his feet, then his arms.

   "Reiner?" Armin muses and touches his bicep. Reiner turns towards him with wide eyes.

   "What?" Armin blinks multitudinously with an open-mouthed smile.

   "I said, don't I need a haircut soon?" he asks and Reiner nods slowly with raised eyebrows.

   "You do, you really do. I don't know why you haven't made an appointment with me. I thought we had a deal?" he says and lowers his chin.

   "Oh, well, I've had a lot to do, you know, so I just sort of reprioritized, which means that my hair's been at the bottom of my list, and I was also kind of hoping that maybe you could do it at my place sometime instead," he rambles, which makes Reiner pucker his lips and shake his head.

   "I have other costumers, you know." Armin shifts his jaw and stares at the floor. "But," he restarts, dragging out the vowel. "Maybe I can make an exception just once." He moves his gaze back to the TV before seeing the short young man's reaction. While massaging one of his shoulders, he focuses on breathing in through the nose and out through the mouth. This exercise usually helps fight the nausea settling in his stomach.

   "Goddammit, you see?! You see what I'm talking about?" Jean slaps the air in Reiner's direction and sneers at Sasha. "Cheater!"

   "I did not cheat, you dork!" Sasha says and they both look at Reiner.

   "Oh, uh, yeah, no," he mumbles and rapidly glares back and forth between the two. "Yeah, I mean, she totally..." He hesitates. "Did. Not." Sasha guffaws and throws her head back while Jean sighs exasperatedly.

   "I give up. I'm doomed to die by this cheater," he grumbles and slumps into his seat with his arms crossed. They continue playing the game with varied enthusiasm, and Reiner carefully grabs his throat and gulps twice more. The nausea has arrived.

   "Oh, by the way," Armin says with a light tone. "Is Bertl coming tonight? It'd be—"

   "No," Reiner groans, and the huge wince he's been suppressing finally makes its appearance and scrunches up his nose and brow. Repeating his breathing routine, he sways away from the table and traverses the living room at the slowest pace he can manage. Armin's words drown in background noise as Eren turns up Savant's latest track.

   The family photos stare at him while he strides all the way to the end of the hallway. He shoves open the bathroom door and pushes it shut with his back. After taking several deep breaths through grating teeth, he sits down on the edge of the bathtub. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and almost drops it on the floor. Several apps are activated accidentally and neglected to be shut back down as he attempts to open the messaging app with his trembling index finger. Upon finally managing to open the correct app, he chooses his recipient and pauses to breathe.

   " _I dont kno if hd meant it_ " he manages to type. Immediately after sending it, he sticks the cold back of the phone against his forehead. Not long after, he has to stretch his torso and cover his mouth with one hand. With the other, he composes another text.

   " _I shoukfve listenrd to yoy_ ". The phone's vibration makes him flinch when he receives a text.

   " _Know if who meant what?_ " it says. He holds the phone in the air above him, fighting the desire to smash it onto the tile floor. Instead, he clenches it to his chest and holds his breath. With gritted teeth and a permanent cringe, he types out a message.

   " _I thibk he did_ ". The phone clatters to the floor, and he supports nearly his entire weight on the toilet seat. At least this would give him an excuse to go home.


End file.
